Breaking Point
by Fallings Just Like Flying
Summary: Rick finally tells Daryl about what Carol did. Written for a contest and decided to share on here. Picks up at the end of 4x5 "Internment"


**A/N: Okay so a blog on tumblr was holding writing contest so this is was my submission and I thought I'd share it here with you. Wrote this right after episode 5.(And for any of you who are reading my TWD/SPN cross over fic, I'm almost done with the next chapter, I've got two classes this week then I'm out for the holiday) Let me know what you all thought about this/the mid-season finale. Enjoy! **

**Chels**

* * *

BREAKING POINT

Everyone has a breaking point. Least that's what my Ma used ta tell me when I was a kid. Now when I think 'bout it, that was just her half-assed excuse when Pop came home drunk and took a belt to our backs. Seems everything we ever did brought that bull of a man to his breaking point; shit, an it only got worse after Ma died. Merle used ta say _"we'll get him some day Baby Brother. Someday he'll get what's coming to 'im"_ back when the only one I had to look up to was my brother. At the time he didn't have a clue how bad things got between me and my old man, mainly 'cause most of the time Merle was locked in the Pit. Safe behind bars . Hell, at one point I didn't see the torment ending, and eventually I was numb to whatever my old man dished out. It got better when Merle got out and he and I made a point of avoiding where we grew up. Since then I'd learnt a lot about people and their breaking points. With as many times as Merle got himself in trouble it was easy to say son of a bitch's breaking point was too damn low. Sure I had temper, a pretty damn awful one, and vocabulary that would put some sailors to shame, but I never wanted to find my breaking point.

When the world gave up and the dead started walkin'; most everyone was driven to the edge some way or another. Hell I couldn't blame 'em, but I wasn' gonna let a few dead bastards get to me. Merle and I, we were damn near fearless when the shit storm started. Lived off the woods, sleepin' in the trees til we ran into some folks outside Atlanta. That was the first time I got close to breaking.  
Merle and I'd been with the group only about a week or so, mostly keeping to ourselves on account the policeman didn't trust us. He was right not to, we was gonna rob those sorry fools for everything they had; Merle had it planed out from the second he laid eyes on the camp. Only we never got to it. I was out huttin' when it happened, come back to camp to find out some other policeman, Rick, handcuffed my brother to the roof of a building. That was the first time in a long while I let my temper get the better of me. All the yelling and kicking wasn't gonna bring Merle back, but I sure as hell thought it would help. It wasn't until a group of us went back after 'im that felt myself teeter on the edge of upheaval. He was gone. Like so many times before, only this time was different. The second I laid my eyes on his lifeless hand on that concrete roof top I reacted without thinking. I wanted to take 'em out. Rick and the man who dropped the god damn key. I didn't need them, like Merle'd always said _"Ya only need yer blood." _How wrong I was to think such a thing.

Like it did all those years ago, life moved on without my brother beside me. I even tried to niche myself a place among the group instead of sulking. People was what kept ya breathin' in a world so full of shit, there was no choice. Some of them died, some even got bit and some just gave up but as a group we kept pushin' forward. Sure I missed my brother, hell I always did when he was gone, but I wasn't gonna let it break me. Andrea lost her sister, damn near took 'erself out, now she walked around like a ghost- past the point of breaking. It wasn't until we'd found temporary refuge on an ol man's farm that I found myself staring down the path that could emotionally devastate me.  
I'd spent most of my time on the farm trekking through the woods, putting my huntin' and trakin skills to the test, tryin' to locate the little girl that had gone missin' in the group. Rick had been the first to go look for her, hell eventually we was all out there, but I _had_ to find her. Ricks guilty conscience is what got his ass out in the woods every day looking, apart from us and Sophia's mother no one seemed to care she was gone. When Rick finally gave up, that was when I could slowly feel my emotions boil deep within my gut. Pissed me off. They all thought it was hopeless; Shane kept goin on about some 72 hours bullshit excuse. She_ had_ to be okay. Ya couldn't just give up on people when people was all ya had.  
Now lookin' back, maybe it woulda been better if we didn't find 'er that day in the barn. Soon as Shane caught word that Hershel was hordin' geeks in the old barn he took it upon himself to take 'em out. We all were there, unloading whatever ammo we could spare into the vile brains of the dead when her frail, decaying body stumbled out of the barn door and into the open. That was a turning point. I'd been too naive to think that she would've been okay No one was untouchable; men, women, children, no one was immune .

It would be awhile before I'd feel myself slipping again. More people would die some would join- even be born. We'd find a haven, in a prison of all places that would become both a curse and a blessing. It was only there a matter of weeks when a new and different danger threatened to destroy what we'd created in the short time we'd found refuge in the concrete walls. He called himself the 'Governor' only he was more like some kind of dictator. It was his way or ya ended up dead. Damn near went to war with the son of a bitch when he found out we was so close to his precious Woodbury. The worst part was, after all the time thinkin' my brother was dead, he'd been there, doing whatever the Governor wanted. 'Corse I didn't know that till after he kidnaped Glenn and Maggie, took 'em back to that Utopian bullshit town that I learnt of my brothers survival. The two of us managed to get out that night after being thrown into a death match pitted against each other; our last stand as brothers.

I alone seemed to only one glad to see Merle was alive and kickin'. Rick, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne; hell, none of 'em wanted him back at the prison- deep down I understood why- so we left. Just the two of us in the Georgia wilderness again, while Rick and the others went back to their sanctuary. After some arguein' and a long walk in the woods with the pain in the ass I realized not just Merle, but everyone back at the prison was my family.

The group and my brother coexisted for as long as they had too, 'cuz it was no time that Merle would leave once again and this time really wouldn't come back. The Governor wanted Michonne. We give him her and all the tension between Woodbury and the Prison would become a distant memory. It was Ricks call. Who was she to us except a sword wielding mystery women who'd told us of Glenn and Maggie's disappearance? She was a good fighter, strong and an asset. But the Governor had numbers and artillery that could wipe us out in one single swoop. In the end, Rick would decide against the one eyed man's demand, and Merle would be the one to go against everything as usual. I could still see Merles hunched over body picking at the dead flesh of a man later that evening. That image of my brother turned monster would never leave my head, and the pain and anger I felt in that moment were the likes of something I never before had experienced. That was the very first time I almost let it get to me. I broke down, letting free tears that had so often threated to diminish me. _ You still have the others_ I kept reminding myself. _Rick, Carol, your friends, you still have them as family. _I suppose knowing I still had _something_ was what kept me from falling into that dreaded pit when Merle was gone for good. There was some comfort knowing I had them to go back to.

Through it all Carol had been the one to help me out of my shell. She just understood without really understanding at all. And it was because of her that I'd finally give in to my breaking point.

* * *

". . .He's a tough son of a bitch." I told Hershel once he'd finished talking about Glenn. I paused long enough for the old man to respond with a simple '_he is'_ before adding. "You're a tough son of a bitch." It was my way of complementing him, I meant it too. He'd been through hell, lost a leg and still he kept on goin'. Not once had I seen him slip over the edge like so many others had.

"I am. . ." His voice drifted slightly when he finally spoke.

"'Bout Carol? She up in A Block. With Lizzie?"

Hershel hesitated slightly and his expression altered a bit. Suddenly I felt that something was wrong. After years of keepin' to myself and observing people, I could tell just from his shift in body language something I'd said struck a nerve.

"No, talk to Rick about her. She's okay, just talk to him." He said nothing more and turned away warily to where Michonne was loading the bodies of the dead onto the back of a truck.

Much like his body language his tone and reluctance didn't set well with me. I turned to where I'd seen Rick with Carl earlier deciding whether I should wait to talk to him and finish helping gettin' rid of the dead walkers.

"Go on." The old man said gesturing with his free hand to where Rick was. "We've got this." I reckoned he must've noticed the look on my face is why he let me go.

It was a fairly short walk down to the fields where Rick and his son were working the land, and my curiosity was drawing my focus away from the task I'd started. She was okay, but something was wrong. I could feel it burning inside me like the heat of the Georgia sun shining down on to me; something was wrong.

Rick was digin' in the dirt with Carl standing next to him when I reached them at the bottom of the slope. The boy glanced at me, tilting his head to see around the wide brim of the brown sheriffs' hat he wore. As he did, he tapped his father with the toe of his boot to alert him of my presence.

"Daryl. . ." there was a hint of something in his voice when he saw me that I couldn't put my finger on. He got to his feet rather quickly and dusted off the knees of his pants as he did. "Carl why don't you go see if Hershel and Michonne need any help. I gotta talk to Daryl for a minute."

The boy nodded and without a word jogged up to where the others were still loading crippled bodies onto the flatbed truck. I watched Rick, reading his body language, finding it similar – if not worse than the old mans. Whatever was wrong, he didn't seem to want to tell me.

"Hershel said I needed ta talk to you 'bout Carol." I spoke first hoping to push him into spillin' whatever it was that was the matter. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I waited for Rick to utter a response.

The sheriff took in a deep breath and rested his hands on his hips. "While you and the others were out Carol told me something. . ." he paused, breaking eye contact for only a moment, but when he looked back at me his eyes were full of pain. "She told me who murdered Karen and David."

I didn't like where he was going with his story.

"It was her Daryl. Carol killed them thinking she could stop the illness from spreading."

All too quickly I felt myself slipping again. "sh- she wouldn'. . ." my voice trailed off, finding it hard to complete simple sentences. It could've been any one at the prison who'd killed them; I was prepared for anyone, anyone but Carol. The thought of her bein' the one who done it never even crossed my mind, and made it that much worse hearin' Rick say it.

"Where is she?" Was all I could get out, sounding angry. My temper was boiling through and seeping into my tone. I couldn't help it. Anger had always been my natural response to such type news. I was on the edge again, teetering dangerously closer and closer to the drop off that would consume me.

"I sent her away." Rick said slowly allowing me time to grasp what he was saying. Suddenly I felt like I was back at camp outside Atlanta and Rick'd just told me he'd left Merle hand cuffed on a roof. Somehow this was worse. Merle came and went; I was used to him not being there when I needed someone. Carol even though had been in my life for only 'bout a year or so, she'd never abandoned me like Merle had. Carol was my rock and now she was gone.

Once again my rage surged through me finally giving me that little 'tap' that would push me over the edge. I suppose it was a number of things that catered to my mental and emotional downfall; the sickness was one, the murders, Bob , and now this. Finding out Carol had been the cause of something so devastating then Rick tossing her out into the god damned apocalypse was the final straw. It took all of that to finally break me. I finally knew what it felt like to become completely undone, to have everything collapse around me and feel so utterly helpless. I was completely overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions and the only way I'd learnt to handle such emotional pain was to lash out. And that was exactly what I did.

Rick must not've seen it comin', 'cuz before he could say another word I sent a right hook straight into his jaw. He stumbled from the force of the blow and I lashed out a left hook before he could stabilize himself. I could hear shouting and people running closer, Rick saying my name trying to get me to stop, but I threw another punch and had him in a headlock before I stopped. Had Michonne and Hershel not pulled me away from the sheriff I doubted I would've stopped simply cuz I couldn't. My rage and agony made me dangerous and like my father I hurt those around me instead of myself.

"What the Hell are you doing?!" Michonne demanded placing herself between me and Rick.

My breathing was heavy and my sight was blurred. The heat mixed with my temper and my head started to pound with the rapid rhythm of my heart. All I could see was red and all I felt was despair.

"I imagine it has something to do with Carol. Am I right?" the old man looked at Rick.

The sheriffs face was red and dripping with sweat. Blood oozed out of his bottom lip and his nose. His left eye was swollen and already turning a sickly black and purple. The part of me, however small that still had a grasp on reality, felt horrible about what I'd done, but there was a larger part of me that was still having a hard time coping with what I'd just learned.

Rick only nodded when Hershel asked about Carol.

"What about Carol?" Michonne pried

"She's the one who killed Karen and David. Rick sent her way." Hershel explained.

It was worse hearing it the second time around, as if somehow the first time didn't make it true.

"I sent her away because I knew if she stayed, Tyreese would kill her." Rick choked out looking at me, my eyes however fell to the disturbed dirt at my feet. I didn't want to look at any of them, I didn't want them to see me. "It was for her own safety." Rick added sounding clearer.

"You sent her out there alone! With god damn walkers!" I shouted stepping closer to the sheriff. Michonnes hand pushed against my chest to keep me at bay.

"I gave her a vehicle, supplies. . ." Ricks voice stayed calm.

"How can ya live known' ya sent her out there?! Ya shoulda came back here and let the council decided steada just tossin' her out like some piece of shit! " I was shouting every word unable to stop.

"Are you condoning what she did?" Ricks tone was more aggressive and slightly louder. "I don't know about you, but I don't want someone like that sleeping where my children are." Rick too stepped closer and Michonne put a hand to his chest as well.

"That wasn't your decision to make." I growled.

Ricks eyes narrowed. "You're welcome to go after her. But don't expect to be welcome here again if you do."

A moment passed, our aggression circulating in the space between us.

"I think you both need to take a walk." Michonne almost demanded.

Hershel put a hand on Ricks arm and pulled him slightly away. "I think the sun is making us all on the edgy side. Take time to cool down, get a drink. Things is bad enough as it is, we don't need to be makin' it any worse."

Without saying anything I stormed off back to the cell blocks. I had to get away from them, away from everything. All I wanted was to tear everything in my path apart, make them feel the same pain I was feeling. I hated it and how it made me. I'd fought so long and I just couldn't do it anymore.

As I walked back to my cell in raging silence, the stone in my pocket – the small piece of jasper- felt heavy, much like the grief plaguing my heart. I'd picked up the rock with the intention of giving it to Carol. I didn't know why, I just wanted to give her something after all she'd done for me, and I had a shitty way of expressing any type of emotion.

I sat on my cot, taking deep breaths turning the small stone over and over between my fingers. Its smooth surface danced across my calloused dirty fingers tips rhythmically. In that moment I considered going after her. Hoppin' on my bike and never coming back, but then I remembered why she was gone in the first place. That was when I realized why I'd lost control, it wasn't that Rick sent her away –hell I was used to people I cared about leavin' – I just couldn't get past her killing two people out of cold blood.

Another wave of rage built up inside me and I tore the thin mattress off the frame and tossed it too the cold ground. I kicked my crossbow, knocked over anything and everything still standing upright before finally falling to the floor in tears. Nestled among the aftermath of my temper I allowed myself to cry; something I hadn't dared to do since Merle'd died.

The afternoon passed an' I never once moved from that cold concrete floor I was sitting on even after the tears had gone. The numb and emptiness I remembered from my childhood replaced the tears. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be so alone, an' like before I didn' care for it at all. No one came by my cell, I wouldn't have seen if anyone had any way, my back was too the door. It had to be getting' dark out. There wasn't much light left in the cell block. Surely by then everyone'd heard what I did. Prolly why no one dared to come talk to me, though it wasn' like anyone ever really came to chat with me anyhow. Carol woulda, and that thought just made it all worse.

"You okay?" Michonnes voice echoed off the walls of my cell when she suddenly spoke standing in the door way behind me.

"I'm fine." I spit.

"Sure don't look like it." She scoffed.

I turned my head and shot her a glare. What did she want?

"You know. . ." she continued to step in and around the mess on the floor and planted herself beside me. "I'm a lot like you. I can keep myself calm for a long time, but when I crack all I wanna do is scream and throw things. Also would rather sulk than talk about my problems."

"Then why are you here?" I pried trying to maintain an aggressive composure despite what I was feeling inside.

She pulled her legs to her chest and locked her arms around them; it was obvious she didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

"I didn't come here to force you to talk. I just came here hoping you will listen to what I have to say." Her dark eyes glanced at me intensely, an' I figured I didn' really have a choice.

"I can't imagine it was an easy decision Rick had to make – I bet he even had some idea what it would do to you, but you have to consider the alternative. Out there she has a chance. If he'd brought her back here Tyreese would've killed her."

I couldn't bring myself to comment and instead just did as she wanted and listened.

"I know you two were close. But don't you go runnin' after her. You do and I'll go out and pull you right back. We need you here."

Michonne was quite then, allowing me a chance to muse over what she'd told me. I was still so angry with everything, and what would I had said to Carol if I found her? I was pissed and mostly disappointed in her. There was no sense in arguing what Michonne had said. She was right.

"Guess I jus' didn' wanna believe she'd done what she did." I murmured.

"I know. . ."

A moment passed and she still hadn't left, but I didn't mind so much. She didn't say anything or look at me, she was just there so I wouldn't be alone.

"How's he doing?" It was Hershel who spoke this time.

"He's calmed down." She told him getting up to stand with the old man.

"Ricks outside. I got him to cool down as well, been with the patients in block A." he paused and directed his next comment my direction. "Thank you for going out and getting the medicine. Everyone is doing much better now."

For a solitary moment I felt less helpless. "Don' sweat it. It was the right thing ta do." I said not bothering to look away from the back wall of my cell.

Hershel hesitated a second before he spoke again. "I know you ain't one to talk, but I think maybe it'd do ya some good to go talk Rick."

They didn't stay very long after that, probably guessin' I had nothing else to say. And while I was happy to be left alone again, I felt just that; alone. The cell block was dark and quite, my cell especially. Internally I debated on goin' to find Rick. I'd calmed down enough to where I'd be able to look at him without wanting to throw another punch, however I had no idea what I would say to him. Talking about it would only make me feel worse so what would it solve?

The longer I sat motionless on the cold ground the more the walls felt like they were creeping in on me. One thing was for sure, I couldn't stay in the tombs.

I staggered to my feet, the sudden rush made my head spin and I gripped the frame of the bed to keep from falling over. The soles of my shoes scuffed the concrete as I walked without really picking my feet up either due to my exhaustion or emptiness – I couldn't tell which. Soon I was out in the court yard away from the claustrophobic stone walls. The earth had a foul stench that permeated the air due to the mass amounts of the living dead. It was something you had to get used to, I for one probably never would. I'd lived outside virtually my entire life and all but memorized how the earth was supposed to smell. The odor made it hard to forget what the world had become.

Rick was sitting on one of the far picnic tables overlooking the fields where his crops grew. He was intently looking at something he turned over and over again in his hands. As I made my way closer I could see what it was; a watch. Without saying anything I sat at the other end of the table, resting my feet on the bench like the sheriff, while my cross bow dangled off my shoulder. He didn't say anything when I sat down, he just kept his eyes on the watch in his hand. Absentmindedly I removed the stone from my pocket and started mimicking Rick, the two of us not saying anything for a long time. I figured I wasn't the company he had in mind given the days incidents. I didn' blame him, but Michonne was right the group was family and I wasn' 'bout to let that go to shit 'cause I finally cracked.

"I was gon' give this to Carol." I murmured quietly gazing down at the stone in-between my fingers.

Rick stopped fiddling with the wrist watch and looked to see the rock I was holding.

"Thought she needed somethin' that hadn' turned ugly yet. . ." I added. " . . .Don' seem real what she did. . ." I stopped truing the small piece of jasper, looked at it a while longer then tossed it into the grassy field. Gone forever.

"I'm sorry." Rick muttered softly.

I shook my head. "You did what ya had ta do. I acted like a jack ass earlier. Was pissed more at her than you." I paused briefly when he looked at me. His left eye was bruised pretty badly but not swollen completely shut. His lip and nose had quit bleeding. "Yer face was just in arm's length."

It was quite a while after that before Rick spoke again. "You leavin'?" he nodded to my crossbow.

It hadn't been until he said anything that I thought about the idea. It was just force of habit carryin' the thing with me all the time. I really didn't want to go back into the cell blocks just yet. Despite the reeking smell of putrefaction, the shelter of the trees seemed to be more welcoming. Spending a night in the woods might do me some good.

"I can't go back in there." I admitted.

He seemed to understand, and nodded slightly. There was something else too on his face, and I realized he thought I was implying.

"I'll be back ta 'marrow." I told him. "I just need the space."

The sheriff perked up slightly and again he nodded. "Be careful out there." He said as I stood up. Rick seemed apprehensive about lettin' me off the prison grounds.

"Hey, I'll be back." I assured him. "Yer my brother now, Ain't no way I'm leavin'

ya."


End file.
